


#justsammemories

by rats_r_cool



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Bad Writing, Crack, Crack and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Slight Yandere Sam, Visions in dreams, Yandere, farming, i wrote this in the two hours approaching midnight and you can tell, me emotionally attaching myself to funky little pixel characters in a viddy game:, memories of a past life, memories of an alternate universe, tbh the past life-alternate universe thing is up for whatever, this is literally just for me and my best friends lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rats_r_cool/pseuds/rats_r_cool
Summary: A crackfic i wrote for funsies. Sam vaguely remembers his past lives with a new farmer in town, sad boy hours when they go for the hot writer on the beach with braidable hair and pretty words :'(my farmer oc is the primordial embodiment of summer btw, just throwing that fun little tidbit out there
Relationships: Elliott (Stardew Valley)/Original Male Character(s), Elliott/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	#justsammemories

**Author's Note:**

> bonk, brains go bleughhhh

There was something… Off, about that new farmer boy. No, not the one that always seemed to wear full winter clothes in spring, at least the (very rare) few times Sam saw him in the town. Although, there was something off about him too, something off about all four of the newcomers. Just for right now, though, Sam was focusing on the one that plagued him most.

The farmhand - whom he had overheard being called something like Theodore - was strange. Every single day he wore bright red sneakers, the same sky-blue shirt with cloud patterning, white shorts, and a cheap sunhat that he won at the Egg Festival. Sam supposed he wasn’t at liberty to complain much, though, considering his own repetitive fashion. Theodore had bright yellow hair like the sun, and cool blue eyes to match his shirt. He had a smile that was made with the essence of a warm summer day, and a sob that could break the hearts of millions. Sam would know.

The first time he ever saw Theodore, the farmhand seemed to be in a hurry to get to the beach, passing Sam on his own way to work. Theodore stopped, their eyes met, and Sam could have sworn he heard whispers in the air, panicked and amused. The originator of his recent torment had stood, petrified, no doubt having an inward battle. After a few moments, he boldly trotted forward, but then very carefully greeted the other. Sam didn’t know what he had said wrong, but Theodore had run off toward the beach crying, yelling up a storm about how he couldn’t do it and he needed to find Elliot. The musician never did figure out why that hurt so bad.

Every morning Sam wakes up to the subject of his dreams yelling and laughing outside his house, no doubt headed to the beach, no doubt away from him. His thoughts are often filled with the sound of his voice calling for him instead, so he took up playing his guitar louder to drown it out. One day while playing, the voice was so clear that Sam would have been lying if he said he didn’t believe it. The knocks and yells outside his bedroom door were so vivid, yet he knew it wasn’t real so he just played louder. It was never that clear again.

Sometimes, Sam will pass the farmhand out in town. Those used to be his least favorite moments, seeing Theodore forcing himself to interact with the musician if he wasn’t outright avoiding him. It hurt to see such a bright person be on the verge of tears, not even bothering to hide it behind a smile, looking scared and confused. Sam guessed it didn’t help that his dialogue was so cold, but he was scared and confused too. There are only so many ways you can respond to someone that cries whenever they see your face. He was glad when it eventually stopped.

The dreams were the second worst part. Night after night, it’s the same few scenes, fuzzy little pictures that get fuzzier the more he thinks about it. Over time, Sam only managed to retain details: a flash of a green shirt, mysteriously pointed ears, the corner of a baby’s room. He’s tried everything from journals to lucid dreaming, but nothing ever works out. Sam wouldn’t have been as interested if he didn’t have a feeling Theodore was involved somehow.

The day Sam’s heart shattered was the 5th of Fall, Elliot’s birthday, and the day Theo married the man. He watched from the crowd as his obsession was joined in holy matrimony with the person he had come to hate. Jodi had always said that hate was a strong word, but Sam felt justified this time. He hated how Theo always sat on the stool next to Elliot’s usual spot in the Saloon. He hated how Theo was always carrying a lobster, or a crab cake, or some other crazy gift to give to the writer. He hated how Theo wouldn’t even look at Sam’s house if he passed it by to find Elliot in the forest. He hated how Elliot’s romance novel was only finished because Theo had become a personal, 24/7 cheerleader. He hated how every move Theo made, was made for Elliot. He hated that he wasn’t Elliot.

**Author's Note:**

> i forgot to edit it before finishing it and tbh me no care rn


End file.
